


nightly phone calls and other revelations

by Dahlia_Rose_83



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 17:55:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19431121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dahlia_Rose_83/pseuds/Dahlia_Rose_83
Summary: They may have become friends over the past couple of years, but this nightly phone call is just too weird. Even for Harry's standards.





	nightly phone calls and other revelations

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I'm still alive ;) Sorry for the long absence, but I'm still fighting a bad case of writers block. This little story just popped into my head, begging to be written. Un-betaed this time, so all the mistakes are mine.

The incessant ringing of his cell phone startled Draco awake. He blinked in the direction of his alarm clock. 2 am in the morning! Great. For what felt like the hundredth time he cursed Pansy for talking him into buying that stupid Muggle device. She was convinced that their generation had to keep up with Muggle technology and therefore had started forcing weird things on him. (Even if he had to admit that he'd become quite fond of his telly.)

With a resigned sigh he groped blindly for his phone. It was probably Pansy, who wanted to talk about her latest date. Or complain about her boss or something equally ridiculous. He didn't know many people beside her who even owned cell phones, so naturally there were only a few handful of people who had his number. And Pansy was the only one who would dare to call him at this ungodly hour. Finally he found the phone and looked at the screen, surprised to see Harry's name blinking there. 

"Harry? Is something wrong?"   
"Hey there, hot stuff." a low, gravelly voice reached his ears. Draco blinked in surprise.   
“Harry?”

"Hmm. Been thinking of you.” the younger man murmured in a strangely breathy voice.   
“And you’re calling to tell me that?” the blond asked, completely puzzled. “It’s 2 am, Potter!” He was more than a bit pissed off about being awoken for nothing.   
“Couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Harry continued in that same tone. 

“You... what?”  
“What are you wearing?" the Gryffindor suddenly wanted to know.   
Draco snorted, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, very funny, Potter. Just how drunk are you?” Seriously, what kind of stupid prank was that? He'd thought they were finally over these childish antics.

“You haven’t answered my question, love. What are you wearing? Are you wearing anything at all?”   
“Cut the crap, Harry. It’s not getting any funnier.” Draco grumbled.  
“I bet you sleep naked, right? You like to feel those expensive sheets against your skin. Like a caress…” the younger wizard went on undaunted. 

He sounded completely serious and also kind of … horny. Draco could hear his heavy breathing and suddenly it didn’t feel like a joke any more. 

“You're drunk, Potter.” 

Because that was the only thing that would explain why his friend was calling him in the middle of the night, obviously attempting to have phone sex. The Slytherin knew he should just hang up, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He felt intrigued and despite the fact that Harry was saying the most ridiculous things, the tone of his voice was starting to get to Draco.

“I wear silk pyjamas to bed, if you must know.” he heard himself answer, shaking his head at his own stupidity. Why the hell was he playing along now? Why didn't he just hang up? 

“What colour are they? Green?” the younger man wanted to know.  
“Blue.” Shit, he needed to stop answering these ridiculous questions.  
“I bet they look lovely on you.”  
“I look good in everything.” Draco claimed automatically.

There was a pause and then a sigh. “Wish I was there right now. In bed with you.” Harry murmured.

Draco shifted on the bed, internally debating with himself. Harry was his friend. Despite their difficult history they had become friends over the last couple of years and he cherished that friendship more than he cared to admit. The Gryffindor would be totally ashamed of this phone call come morning. Draco could just stop it right here and make fun of him the next time they met and everything would be fine. They’d laugh about it and move on.

Or he could let it continue, consequences be damned. Harry was bloody gorgeous, with his intense green eyes and crooked smile. You’d have to be blind not to notice that. And there was also the fact that Draco had harboured a secret crush on the Gryffindor ever since fifth year. 

But things would most likely get weird between them if this went any further. It might even ruin their friendship and he didn’t want to lose Harry. He'd fought too hard to gain the Gryffindor's trust. On the other hand, his friend had to be really drunk to attempt something like this. There was a good chance that he wouldn’t even remember it in the morning...

Deciding to throw caution to the wind, Draco just went with it. What good Slytherin would pass up an opportunity like this? 

“What… what would you do, if you were here?” he asked, surprised how his own voice caught in his throat. 

“Well, first I would strip off your shirt. Then I would slide my hands all over your body, from your throat down to your hips. Find out where to touch you, to make you moan.” Harry answered without hesitation. “Then I would follow the same path with my lips and tongue, circling your nipples, biting your hip bone.” 

Draco’s breathing became irregular, as his free hand took the path Harry had described. He closed his eyes, imagining it was really Harry touching him.   
“I’d rake my fingernails over the inside of your thighs…”   
The Slytherin bit his lip to keep from making a sound. Harry’s voice dropped another notch.  
“Then I would push my hand into your pants, wrap it around your cock and start stroking you. Slowly.” 

This time Draco couldn’t stop the whimper escaping his lips, as he mimicked the action. Harry’s breathing was getting heavier and the blond thought he could hear him jerking off as well. He imagined the sight of it, Harry on his bed, skin flushed, touching himself while talking to him. A moan left his lips, was echoed by Harry. 

“Then I’d move my hand faster, before slowing down again. Drawing it out. I’d squeeze you just right…”   
“Shit, Harry.” Draco gasped. “So close.”   
And had he actually said that aloud? He flushed with embarassement. But Harry didn't seem to care. He simply ordered: “Come for me, love.” 

Such a stupid line, but right now, coming from the Gryffindor, it sounded incredibly hot. Draco had no chance but to comply. He came all over his own hand, with Harry’s name on his lips. The vague sounds from the other end of the line told him that Harry had had the sense of mind to muffle his cry with a pillow. 

Draco slumped back on the bed, his breathing slowly returning to normal. He could hear Harry’s ragged breathing, before the younger man chuckled lightly and muttered:   
“Goodnight, Draco.”   
The blond grinned. “Goodnight.” he answered automatically, before the line went dead. 

He grabbed his wand from the bedside table and cast a quick cleaning spell on himself, before slipping back beneath the covers, still wondering what the hell had just happened. 

***

Two days later Draco still hadn't gotten that weird phone call out of his mind. He looked up from his file when Hermione sat down at her desk, right next to his. Sometimes he still wondered how he'd ended up here, working together with the girl he'd loathed and bullied in their Hogwarts days. But surprisingly enough, Hermione had forgiven him. They were a good team and they'd also become friends.

Today she looked a bit harried and she was also late, which wasn't like her at all.  
“Rough weekend?” Draco asked.  
“You have no idea. Saturday was Neville's stag night. You wouldn't believe the amount of trouble the boys have gotten into. And of course I was the one who had to clean up after them.”

Right. Longbottom's stag night. Well, that at least explained the weird phone call.  
“Did they get very drunk?”  
“More like completely hammered, the whole lot of them!” Hermione growled. “Except for Harry, of course. But he wasn't much of a help.”

“Why except for Harry?” Draco wanted to know.  
“Oh, I tasked him with getting them all home safely. Who knows what might have happened if one of those idiots had tried to apparate while drunk?”  
“You mean... Harry didn't get drunk?”

Hermione gave him a curious look. “No, he didn't. Out of the whole lot, he's the most responsible one. He would never apparate drunk. You know that. Well, Neville wouldn't either. But it was his stag night, so... Why are you asking?”

Shit. He'd forgotten how damn perceptive she was. “Nothing. Just wondering. I mean... staying sober while all of his mates get drunk off their arses? Isn't very Gryffindor, is it?” he claimed.

Hermione frowned at him, obviously not believing the lie. But she let him get away with it, because she only shrugged and reminded him that they'd graduated from Hogwarts six years ago and that it was time to let go of those old house stereotypes, before asking him to bring her up to date on their latest project.

***

Over the course of the week Draco watched his friend closely. Harry acted like always and gave no hint that he remembered the phone sex. But the blond thought he noticed Harry staring at him from time to time. He noticed how Harry’s eyes seemed to follow him and how he suddenly found excuses to touch him. Just casual touches, like a pat on the back, a hand on his shoulder or a friendly punch to the arm. 

Usually he wouldn’t think anything by it. Gryffindors were a touchy-feely bunch by nature, no matter what Hermione said about house stereotypes. But everything combined slowly made him realize that maybe his feelings weren't as unrequited as he'd always thought.

The only question was where to go from there. Harry was the Gryffindor. The reckless, brave one. Draco was a calculating Slytherin. And there were still so many variables. So many things he might have misunderstood. Could he really risk it?

***

Harry closed his bedroom door and leaned against it with a sigh. He was so glad it was finally Friday. The week had dragged on endlessly and work had been boring as hell, since he'd been confined to his desk, because he hadn't followed Auror protocol on that arrest last week.

“Hey there, hot stuff.” a voice suddenly startled him out of his musings.   
Harry jumped in shock and groped for the light switch. “Draco? You scared the shit out of me! What the hell…” he started protesting, but the words died in his throat once the light was on. 

Because Draco Malfoy was draped over his bed like a pin-up model, blinking up at him innocently. And he was completely naked!

“About time you got here. I’ve been waiting for ages.” he complained with a pout.   
“What … what are you doing here?” Harry asked, trying in vain not to stare too openly at the tempting vision before him.  
“I thought that would be quite obvious. I couldn’t stop thinking of you, Harry.” Draco whispered seductively. 

Harry felt the sudden urge to bang his head against the wall. He should've known that the blond wouldn’t keep quiet about that night. It was a wonder that he hadn't mentioned it before now. 

The Gryffindor really had no idea what had gotten into him. Neville's stag night had gotten a little out of hand, despite his best efforts to keep his mates out of trouble. Once he'd helped Hermione to deliver a very drunk, loudly singing Neville to his rather unamused grandmother, he'd apparated home, intending to go straight to bed.

Well, he had gone to bed, but sleep had eluded him. Dean's words about phone sex had echoed in his head and so, following a strange impulse, he'd grabbed his cell-phone. And before he’d been able to talk himself out of it, he had dialled Draco’s number. Never in a million years had he thought the blond would actually go for it.

He swallowed hard when the Slytherin suddenly slid off the bed and padded over to him.   
“You’re overdressed, love.” Draco chided softly.   
Harry felt unable to move. Numbly he allowed Draco to pull his shirt off. He shuddered when he felt the blond's lips against his naked skin. 

“I contemplated returning your call, you know?” Draco muttered and Harry felt himself blushing. “But then I decided to drop by instead. I thought maybe you want to show me some of those things you talked about.” While he talked his fingers made quick work of Harry’s pants, opening the fly and pushing them down.

Deciding to take the chance (he was a Gryffindor, after all) he kicked them off and pulled Draco against himself, sealing the Slytherin's lips with his. Draco moaned into the kiss, pressing closer. Harry quickly pulled off his boxers, before pushing the blond back onto the bed.   
“Let me show you then, love.” he murmured, grinning down at his lover…

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think.


End file.
